Masters of Horror: The Dead Don't Sleep
by Ozzie Bastard
Summary: The sequel to "A Haunting in Sodor". Pure evil descends on Sodor as a beloved friend is kidnapped and several others are murdered. Henry, who is still haunted by visions of his former friend, sets out the stop the carnage before everything dies.
1. Chapter 1: Human Genocide

**"Masters of Horror: The Dead Don't Sleep"**

**Chapter One: Human Genocide (Here Begins the Haunting)**

Throughout the history of Sodor, there had been many instances of ghosts and paranormal events. Engines and citizens alike have told tales of frightening encounters with ghosts and demons. Most of them have often been debunked as being nothing more than childish imaginations and sleep deprived induced paranoia. They have often been explained away with rational explanations, which sometimes brought the engines comfort. However, there had been instances where no simple rational explanation could explain away the paranormal. One instance of a haunting on Sodor took place in an abandoned shed somewhere near the small town of Knapford. Many years ago, an engine was destroyed in that particular shed when its driver and fireman deliberately left its systems wide open, effectively creating extremely high pressure and causing it to explode. The shed remained abandoned for years until two engines decided that it would be the ideal location for a Bed and Breakfast for engines. Little did they realize that their "shed made of dreams" was really made of nightmares. A malevolent entity stalked the berths of this shed, leaving many of its patrons frightened out of their funnels. The haunting escalated to the point when the entity almost killed a valued member of the Island. After the "dark body" caused great suffering to those around it, the owners of the Bed and Breakfast were left with no choice but to exorcise the demon entity from their shed. The plan was successful, but it came with a cost. The innocence of the Island was shattered and one of the owners of the B&B was left traumatized by the incident. As for the unlucky engine that almost died from his attack with the spirit, he was repaired and had recently returned to work on his branch line, still as boastful about his heritage as ever. It was believed that the entity was sent to the other side, never to haunt the shores of Sodor again. But there are those that believe the demon engine would reveal itself again, with its sights set on one thing – revenge.

The Smelters Yard on the Other Railway, otherwise known as the "Engine Graveyard". It is here that engines come to die. Workmen take torches to these relics of a long forgotten age. They systematically break them up into scrap, piece by piece. Slowly, the engines die painfully as they are striped of their lives and then melted down in the monster vats of molten steel. Their melted remains are then reborn into almost anything: steel beams, car bodies, piping and yes, new parts for engines. It is said that even though their physical bodies may be long gone, their spirits still linger in between the realm of the living and the land of the dead. By all accounts, these spirits are often benign and are only looking for a way home. Other times, the spirits of these long dead engines crave for something more. Deep inside the hellfire and dancing sparks of the Smelters Yard, workmen and the Iron twins work feverishly to get their daily quota of scrap completed. They are unaware that somewhere in this labyrinth of molten steel vats, monstrous ceiling cranes and towering structures, there is an entity lurking somewhere in the shadows. Among the piles of jagged metal and twisted steel, something is being reborn. Something dark. Something mysterious. Something evil.

One cold night, Molly the yellow Claud Hamilton was pulling her last train for the evening. She was to take a shipment of Chevrolet Mopar crate motors from Brendam Docks to Knapford station. The crate motors were for a high end Custom Car shop that had recently opened its doors to the public. Molly didn't mind working this late at night, she was just happy to feel needed. Yet, all throughout the trip, Molly sensed she was being watched. She felt the cold, invisible stares of someone or something lurking in the shadows. This made her anxious and she wanted to get her job done faster. Her crew tried to calm her down. "Steady on, old girl." Comforted her driver. "We're almost home, my dear. We should be passing Crosby soon."

"I should hope so." Molly sniffed. "Frankly, this is giving me the creeps. It's like listening to Karen's death rock mix-tapes." Molly's driver laughed. Soon enough, Molly cleared the signal box at Crosby and thundered by BoCo's late night express who was picking up extra passengers at the station. He gave the yellow engine a friendly honk as she rocketed by with lightning speed. "Not long now, hun." Said Molly's driver with confidence. Molly felt her confidence grow too. It was then that the night took a bizarre turn. Up ahead, a thick blanket of fog suddenly enveloped the track. As Molly thundered into the miasma, the world around her became darker and darker. Visibility fell to nothing; the entire landscape seemed to be swallowed up by the vicious fog. Molly's crew was perplexed. They had never seen fog like this before. Not in their many years of faithful service to Sir Topham Hatt's railway. Sure, they had encountered thick fog before, but this was different. The fog was unlike anything they had ever seen in their experience. The fog was unnatural. "Blimey, Ray." Molly's driver, Dylan, said looking into the mist bewildered. "Look at this mess. Have you seen anything like it?" he asked Ray the fireman. His face showed genuine fear and disbelief.

"Never have, mate." Ray answered; he was just as perplexed as his colleague. "What the fuck is going on? Is there a fire somewhere?" he wondered. Molly felt the fear creeping back into her systems. All around her was pitch black. Her powerful headlamp was useless against the thickening fog. Molly shivered and bit her bottom lip. Up ahead, a strange red light appeared. It didn't appear to be moving with her, the light appeared to be static. "I can see something." Molly cried, squinting into through the mysterious black fog. Her driver and fireman peered around the cab. They could see the light ahead as well. "What is it?" Ray the fireman wondered.

"Dunno, mate." Dylan the driver answered. Molly surged forward into the impossible black fog. Her cylinders shivered as the strange red light grew in intensity and ferocity. The air suddenly felt warmer. A very bizarre turnaround from the cold, winter-like conditions of the day. A faint whistle was heard in the distance. Molly whistled in response, hoping whoever was in front of her would answer. But then, the already bizarre night took a frightening turn. Molly's face dropped in terror as something dark emerged from the black fog. Her eyes widened with horror as her fear enveloped her. Molly's crew was also terrified beyond imagination. They couldn't believe their eyes. Molly let out a terrified scream. Then, everything went quiet. The silence was deafening. The air grew still and the strange fog started to dissipate, just as mysteriously as it rolled in.

BoCo was gliding merrily across the countryside with his express. He was given the "All Clear" at Crosby after Molly steamed by. BoCo was having a splendid time, humming a little ditty as he rumbled through the night. Then, up ahead, his driver noticed something. "What the fuck?" he wondered and gently applied the brakes. BoCo felt that he was slowing down and was annoyed, he was almost livid. "What now?" he muttered angrily. BoCo was having such a splendid run. What could possibly be ruining his wonderful late night run? BoCo would soon find out. As he came to a stop, BoCo's driver stepped out of the cab with his powerful torch. BoCo could see that something was wrong. "David, what's going on?" he asked his driver.

"Up ahead. Can't you see it?" David, his driver, answered pointing into the distance. BoCo looked up and he could see a brakevan, its red tail lamp glowing brightly. Attached to the brakevan was a long line of trucks. BoCo recognized the trucks as the ones that Molly was pulling before. "What in the name of bloody hell?" BoCo quivered. "Those are Molly's trucks!" he added. He could also see that there was no sign of Molly anywhere. It seemed that the cheerful yellow engine had mysteriously disappeared.

"I'd better go in for a closer look." Said David the driver. "Just sit tight and I'll be back in a sec." he cautioned his engine. Flicking on his torch, David the driver wandered cautiously down the line towards the abandoned train. BoCo watched his driver walk down the line as his big, powerful diesel-electric engine purred quietly. David ventured up to the brakevan, hopping on board for a closer look. "Hello?" he called. "Is anyone home?" David shined his torch around the brakevan's interior but there was no one inside. Everything appeared to be in order. Nothing was out of place. On the table lay a brakeman's torch. David flicked it on, it still functioned properly. Cups of half drunken cocoa also sat on the table, along with a log book and a pocket watch on a chain. David examined the watch, reading an inscription on the back. It read, "Keep those steamers running on time – Grandpa." David felt a cold chill down his spine. He recognized the watch. "It's Carlin's." he muttered.

Carlin was a new comer to the Island of Sodor railway community. He was just starting out as a brakeman and engineer on the North Western Railway network. His father, Jonathon, was a brakeman for many years and so was his grandfather, Terrence. Terrence had retired several years ago and had given Carlin his old watch as a way of welcoming him to the rail network. Carlin was a young man at only 27 years old and he was young at heart. He was still learning the tricks of the trade and had hoped to graduate to engine driver some day. _Curiouser and curiouser_, thought David as pocketed the watch. He couldn't let such a valuable thing be left for thieves to plunder. David then stepped out of the brakevan and walked along the down the abandoned train. BoCo's passengers were getting agitated. Some of them even stepped out of the coaches to speak with BoCo face to face. They wanted to know what was going on and why their train was delayed. The only answer BoCo could give to the irate passengers was simply, "Hell if I know." Meanwhile, David was carefully walked down the length of the trucks. He examined them with increased tension. The expressions on each of the trucks faces were undeniable. They were almost paralyzed with fear. As much as David tried to make contact with them, they were unresponsive to his calls. One truck was whimpering the Lord's Prayer with tears in its eyes. What had spooked the trucks so badly? It was then that David stepped in something on the railway sleepers. He shone his torch on his shoe and to his horror; it turned out to be blood. "Oh sweet Jesus." He cringed. David then shone his torch along the tracks and saw a trail of blood leading down the line. David followed the blood trail until it stopped at a large pool of blood under a patch of trees. "The blood stops right here." David huffed. "What the hell is going on?" he surveyed the landscape.

Suddenly, a drop of blood dripped onto David's shoulder. And then another. David's eyes widen as he lifted his torch skyward. To his absolute horror, displayed on an overhanging branch, were three mutilated bodies. They were severed into pieces and hung like ornaments from the branch. David jumped in terror. "Holy Mother of God!" he shrieked. He recognized one body as being that of Carlin. He let out a terrified yelp as he recognized the other victims as well. They were Dylan and Ray, Molly's crew. They had met the sickening fate that met Carlin. David started to gag at the sheer violence and brutality of these killings. He held his mouth and bolted from the bloody scene before pausing to vomit beside the tracks. David's mind was racing a mile a second as he collecting himself and bolted back to his train. BoCo and the passengers saw David bolting towards them. He didn't stop until he reached his engine, out of breath and white as a sheet. "David, what's wrong?" BoCo asked frantically.

"There's been a murder! Murder on the rails!" David started.

"A murder?" One startled passenger wondered.

"Yeah. Someone call the police. NOW!" David demanded. The passenger scrambled for her mobile and frantically dialed the police. The passengers were all shocked and talking at once. David, on the other hand, slumped against BoCo and sighed heavily. He started to quiver from the horror of it all. "The poor guy just started working here." He said, wiping away a tear.

"Who just started working here?" BoCo asked.

"Carlin." David explained. "It's him and two other guys up there. Dead. All dead." BoCo's face dropped in shock. David fell silent for a moment before his face twisted into a blubbering mess. "What will his father say?" David sobbed and he broke down into an endless flood of tears. BoCo was left stunned. What could he say? What could anyone say? Nothing like this had ever happened on the Island of Sodor, especially something this horrendous. The burning question was, who was the demented person or engine responsible for this brutal multiple murder and Molly's sudden disappearance and why? There would be no easy answer to this and no way to know. At least, not until morning comes to wash away the wicked evening.


	2. Chapter 2: Show No Mercy

**Chapter Two: Show No Mercy**

Dawns early light rose on the Island of Sodor. It was the start of a beautiful day. Birds sang their cheerful little songs, the bluebells were opening their glorious petals as the sun crept over the mountains and the animals on Farmer McColl's farm stirred to life as the rooster bellowed it's wonderful harmony. And along a lonely stretch of track on the mainline between Crosby and Knapford, men and women from the Sodor police force had the grim task of collecting evidence and removing the slaughtered remains of three poor railway men. Detectives took detailed photographs of the scene of mass violence, took samples of possible evidence and interviewed the witnesses at the scene. BoCo hadn't moved an inch since his driver made the gruesome discovery. He hardly spoke too. His trademark smile had vanished from his face. BoCo was in a semi catatonic state, unresponsive to police questioning and his driver's calls. David the driver told the detectives everything, sparing no gruesome detail. He told the Gods honest truth. David's recall of the event was so fantastic and horrific that it made one senior detective lose his lunch! The medical examiners had finally collected the remains of the victims and were about to transport them to the morgue when a hysterical man pushed through the crowd and onto the track. It was Jonathon, Carlin's father. "Where's my son?" he yelled. A detective came up to him.

"Sir, you have to step back. This is a crime scene." He coolly told Jonathon.

"Crime scene?" Jonathon yelled. "I was told that something happened to my son. Where is he?" he demanded.

"Sir, just remain calm." The detective said calmly. "Now, what's your son's name?"

"Carlin." Jonathon answered. "His name is Carlin. He just started working on the railway a few months ago. Is he ok? Is my son ok?" he looked pleadingly to the detective. The detective gave him a solemn look. "I'm sorry, sir. There's no easy to say this." he sighed deeply. It was then that Jonathon saw two men carrying a black body bag away.

"Oh sweet Lord." Jonathon cried. "Is that what-?" he started to break down. The detective broke the horrific news to the distraught father. Jonathon burst into tears, clutching his head and wailing uncontrollably. There was nothing the detective could do. "What will his mother say?" Jonathan sobbed. At that moment, David the driver wandered up to the grief stricken father. "Mr. Teutul." He said calmly.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. I think you should have this." He took out Carlin's pocket watch and handed it over to Jonathon. He said nothing else. "Thank you." said Jonathon. David acknowledged him with a small nod and walked away. It would be hours before the line was reopened again, the detectives and medical examiners didn't want to leave any stone unturned. In the meantime; all rail services, including freight and passenger, were halted until further notice. BoCo's passengers had to take alternate bus services to Knapford station. Bertie didn't mind the extra loads of passengers, but when the reason for this came clear to him, he just didn't put his heart into it as he normally did.

News soon spread of the terrible crimes that happened on that dreadful night. The otherwise bright and cheerful atmosphere was shattered by the dark nature of it all. None of the engines smiled, not even those that had a tendency to smile at every turn. None of them could understand the nature of the murders, why they were so violent and to the motive of the killings. They also wondered about poor Molly. Why did she disappear and who know would have taken her? This wasn't something the local street gangs would have done. Grand theft engine was below them as far as criminal activity was concerned and if they did steal poor Molly, where would they hide her? It's not like they had access to any powerful lifting equipment or engine sheds. Still, the police followed this lead as a possibility. In their numerous interviews with the different street gang factions, none of them took responsibility for the killings, especially when they were shown photographs of the horrific scene. One member of the infamous Bloods "British chapter" gang even threw up at the sight, which guaranteed his innocence right there. The public were both shocked and outraged that such an incident took place on their generally peaceful little Island. Sure, there was petty crime and usual rash of gang activity, but this was cold-blooded murder. Murder was a rare occurrence on the Island, in fact, the last reported incidence of murder and terrible death was during the time of Bloody Mary. The Island was always known as a haven for holiday makers because of its low crime rate and friendly atmosphere. But to have something like this horrendous happen on the Island would most certainly tarnish Sodor's image as a safe and warm place to visit and stay. Such a thing would be devastating to the tourist sector of the Island of Sodor and possibly ruin any chance of regaining their child friendly atmosphere.

At Knapford station, Gordon, Edward, Emily and Duck and were in a heated discussion about the horrific news. It seemed rather morbid that they would converse about such a thing but this incident involved one of their own. Molly had disappeared without a trace and they wanted to know why. "This was probably the bloody street gangs doing." Edward chuffed. "Those fucking kids have been giving this Island a black eye for years. I believe they are the ones that took the lives of those dear men and our dear Molly away from us. It's sickening." He grunted in anger. The passengers on the platform tried to take no notice.

"That's just preposterous." Gordon huffed in disagreement. "All those bloody gangs have been responsible for over the years is graffiti tagging and petty crimes."

"You're wrong, Gordon." Edward protested. "Because those gangs have been engaging in ever increasing violent tussles with each other in recent times. Isn't it possible that they are the ones responsible for murdering those poor souls and kidnapped Molly?" he asked the big blue LNER Class A3. The passengers on the platform were listening with great discomfort.

"Kidnapped is such a harsh word." Gordon snorted. "They're incapable of stealing anything bigger than perhaps a widescreen television or a… a… a breadbox, for that matter. Vicious and organized as they may be, where would they get the means to stash Molly without being detected by anyone? It's highly unlikely would even attempt such a daring feat without our yellow friend screaming for help. No gag is big enough to silence an engine. And if they did "kidnap" dear sweet Molly, they would never resort to something like murder and dismemberment to get what they want. It's beneath them even as a gang."

"Perhaps she was kidnapped as part of an extortion or ransom demand." Emily thought out loud. The engines wondered if that was possible.

"Unlikely." Said Edward. "If she was kidnapped for an extortion or ransom plot, wouldn't the Fat Controller have received a ransom letter or phone call from the kidnappers? So far, that angle has been proven false."

"I think Edward could be on the money with this one." Duck agreed. "It's highly improbable that any street gang would steal an engine for a ransom demand. Most of these gangs have an average gang member age of 17, a lot of them having no experience on the mechanics of steam engines whatsoever. But then again, they could have stolen Molly for a simple joyride around the Island without, uh, "dumping" her somewhere. People are capable of doing the strangest things." There was some agreement here.

"Maybe so but it's like I said before." Gordon spoke up. "The only things those street gangs are capable of are graffiti tagging and stealing. Do you know what those bastards actually spray painted on me once? They spray painted the phrases "I eat cock" and "Me hung fo' Chinese pussy" all over my boiler." The other engines tittered and snickered at the thought. Gordon's face went as red as the pits of hell.

"It wasn't at all funny from my point of view." He thundered. "I spent two days having my lovely blue paint hydro-blasted off before being repainted again to my original glory. It was hell having to go through all that." The other engines still snickered.

"If only someone took a photograph." chortled Duck.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Laugh it up, chaps." Gordon growled sarcastically. "But shall we get back to matter at hand, the disappearance of dear Molly?"

"You're right, old chap." Edward sniffed and cleared his throat. "Ok, so most of you agree that the street gangs probably weren't responsible for all this, right?"

"Right." The others responded.

"And there has been no proof that this is perhaps some elaborate plot to extort money from the Fat Controller, right?" Edward continued.

"Right." The others responded in harmony.

"But if the gangs weren't involved." Edward continued. "Then who would be responsible for such heinous crimes?" The other engines thought very hard until…

"It's Matthias." A voice was heard. The other engines were startled when they saw Henry approach the station with his passenger service.

"What was that, sweetie?" Emily wondered.

"I said that it's Matthias. I know it is." Henry elaborated. Henry the green Black Five had been haunted by ghostly visions and nightly visitations from Matthias, an engine that he had the misfortune of calling his friend many years ago. Henry had trouble sleeping at night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the visage of his former friend tormenting him, enticing him to embrace his dark side. Everywhere Henry looked, he kept seeing engines that resembled him or, indeed, saw the deceased engine in just about anything. Matthias had always believed that Henry was like him in every way, they were shunned by their peers because of crippling boiler problems. They also had devastating accidents that saw them both rebuilt with all niggling problems eliminated. Only when Henry was rebuilt after his accident with the _Flying Kipper_, the engines accepted Henry as being stronger. Matthias was still shunned by all for his bitter and hate-filled persona. When Henry finally turned away from him, Matthias turned psychotic and ended up murdering an innocent engine before expiring himself. The engines at Knapford were surprised at Henry's deduction. Duck, on the other hand, quivered at the mere utterance of Matthias's name. He was still very much shaken up by his brutal attack from the demon engine. Gordon thought the idea of Matthias kidnapping Molly and murdering three innocent men was as equally preposterous as the street gang lead. "Surely you jest." Gordon huffed.

"Surely I'm not." Henry retorted.

"But that's not possible, Henry." Said Emily. "His spirit was exorcised from this realm long ago. Even as we speak, his soul is probably burning in hell."

"Serves that sick bastard right." Duck agreed. "He almost killed me."

"Quite right." Gordon concurred. "That demon engine is dead and buried. Besides, there is no proof that it is even his doing." Henry snorted discontentedly.

"But I'm telling you, it is!" He chuffed angrily. "I keep seeing him in my dreams and in my waking life. He speaks to me about a _cleansing of everything impure on this Island_ and a _master plan to go through with it_. I know Matthias did this. He's that diabolical and demented."

"Even if that is true." Emily scoffed. "What is his motive for murder and kidnapping?"

"It's simple – revenge." Henry explained. Everyone turned white.

"Re… revenge?" Duck stuttered.

"That's right." Henry elaborated. "In my dreams, Matthias has vowed vengeance on everyone on this Island. The engines, the passengers, the drivers. Even Sir Topham Hatt is on his hit list. He wants to take his revenge on all of us."

"But why?" Edward thought.

"Matthias believes it's our fault for turning away from him." Henry continued. "He thinks that it's our rejection and indifference towards him that effectively turned him against us. All he wanted was to be respected, but we just turned the other cheek.

"Don't tell me you actually feel sympathy for that nut-bar." Emily snorted.

"I'm not saying that." Replied Henry. "All I'm saying is that I understand his anguish and his want to be accepted. Because I went through the same thing he went through."

"Yes, but I always told you that you're nothing like Matthias, honey." Said Emily. "You're better than him and you weren't a monster like him."

"Indeed, but it wasn't our fault that Matthias became a pariah." Gordon huffed pompously. "It was his reckless nature and rebelliousness that caused us to reject him. If anything else, this all falls squarely on him."

"That's right." Edward concurred. "Matthias may have been a hard worker, but he was also rude, disobedient and cold to everyone. He brought this on himself."

"Not to mention violent." Duck added. "And anyway, how do we even know that he is even capable of murder or, indeed, kidnap?"

"Any man or engine that fueled by desire is capable of anything." Henry chuffed. "And you know what else? I know he was responsible for the attack on Diesel 10 as well." The other engines recoiled in astonishment. They remembered that bizarre incident rather well. It happened almost a month ago.

One particularly cold night, Diesel 10 was returning to his shed after a productive day of loading scrap into trucks. According to his account in the accident report, Diesel 10 was casually rumbling down the mainline when he was overcome with a strange black fog that effectively blotted out everything. Diesel 10 was running blind with no forward or peripheral vision. Thinking that they had become lost, Diesel 10's driver apparently stopped for a moment and ventured into the strange fog to check his bearings. As Diesel 10 sat alone in the sinister fog, he noticed a strange red light up ahead. Believing it was perhaps his driver, he called out into the black mist, hoping that he had found his bearings. But there was no reply. What Diesel 10 experienced that night was like something out of the pages of Stephen King. Diesel 10 told that a mysterious black engine thundered out of the black miasma, looking like something that crawled out of the depths of hells. Before he knew it, Diesel 10 was slammed off the tracks with such force that he was almost knocked out cold. After that, things got "a little fuzzy", as Diesel 10 put it. All he could remember was that the mysterious engine gave a cold smirk as he slipped in and out of consciousness, though he recalled the engine saying something to the extent of, "I said to you once that I could take you down with a single strike. Huh, guess I don't know my own strength." And then, Diesel 10 blacked out. When he came to, his driver had discovered that Diesel 10 had been horribly mutilated. His wheels and bogies were ripped from his body. Parts of his metal skin were torn off like paper. But the most frightening thing of all, according to Diesel 10, was his trademark roof-mounted grabber, a.k.a. Pinchy, was missing. Bizarrely enough, Diesel 10's driver reported nothing out of the ordinary as he wandered through the sinister black fog. He reported no strange engine sounds, no bizarre sights or anything as such. Except for when the fog started to mysteriously disperse, revealing the horrible aftermath of Diesel 10's attack.

By morning, rescue crews had arrived to clear away the damaged engine. Diesel 10 was visibly shaken and catatonic from the traumatic experience. Rocky was brought in helped to life the stricken engine onto the flatbed. As he was doing so, Diesel 10 shattered his silence saying only one thing. "He took my Pinchy!" Back at Knapford, the engines came back to reality. They almost started to believe Henry's notion that his former friend had returned from the grave to reek vengeance on everyone. "It could have been anyone that could have done that." Gordon puffed.

"You don't believe that was the work of Matthias?" Henry posed the question.

"Not for a second." Gordon sniffed. "It's just not possible."

"Why is not possible?" Henry groaned.

"Because the very idea of an engine cannibalizing another for parts goes beyond being just anything rational or justified. That's just… evil." Gordon steamed.

"Exactly!" Henry thundered. "Matthias is evil. He is evil enough to terrorize or kidnap or even murder. He's done this before with poor Helvetia and he'll do it again."

"And who's to say that Diesel 10 wasn't evil?" Emily snorted angrily.

"Emily is quite right." Gordon agreed whole heartedly. "Diesel 10 is perhaps the most hated engine on the whole Island. Even if he tried to remedy his bad deeds, it still doesn't absolve him of his cruel and hellish deeds. Diesel 10's was probably retribution from some local vigilantes; paying him for wanted to murder us all."

"Not to mention that he's one can short of a six pack." Edward added.

"Maybe so, but not even Diesel 10 deserved such a horrendous attack and mechanical castration." Henry protested.

"Why would he even harm Diesel 10 and steal his grabber claw?" Gordon raised the question. Henry struggled for an answer.

"That I cannot answer." Henry sighed.

"Maybe Matthias did us all a favour by taking out that piece of shit. Good riddance to bad diesels." Duck muttered.

"I don't know about that, it certainly gave Thomas and Lady some solace." Henry said softly. "But what I do know is that poor Molly is out there somewhere, scared and possibly hurt. We should all pray that she's alright and that the police will find her."

"What if they don't?" Gordon posed a difficult question.

"They will find her." Henry reassured the others. "They have to." Everyone fell silent as they thought of Molly. She had only been with the North Western Railway for a few years, starting out as a freight exclusive engine. But Molly soon rose through the ranks of the Sodor family before she finally took her first passenger service just over a year ago. Everybody loved her. Percy had always looked up to Molly as his big sister. Duck would often help Molly whenever she ran into trouble, thus leading speculations that he was secretly in love with her. Emily had great respect for Molly, even after she teased her for pulling "empties." Despite that respect, there had been rumours that Emily was almost jealous of Molly. Emily would always deny such rumours but the others knew that something was stirring in her systems. Edward had always acted as Molly's older brother and, as Thomas often put it, spiritual advisor. The engines sat in silence reflecting on their missing friend, until they were brought back to reality by the station loudspeakers. "Your attention please." A booming voice rang out from the speakers. It was Sir Topham Hatt.

"Having just received work from the Police Commissioner, the track between Crosby and Knapford has been reopened." Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"The mainline is clear again." The Fat Controller continued. "The investigators from Scotland Yard have finally completed their intensive job of collecting evidence and, uh, removing the deceased from the scene. I urge you as citizens of Sodor to never forget those poor souls that lost their lives so tragically during the night. Remember them as your own and keep them in your hearts and minds. That is all." He finished. All the passengers soon scrambled to their respective trains, hurrying to grab their seats. One by one, the engines trundled out of Knapford station with heavy hearts and heavy minds. As much as they tried to concentrate on their duties, they could shake off dear sweet Molly from their minds. They were all concerned for her safety and wanted her back so badly. But they knew that they couldn't do anything about it. It would be up to the police and detectives to find their yellow friend and find whoever was responsible. The engines were counting on them.


	3. Chapter 3: South of Heaven

**Chapter Three: South of Heaven**

The Smelters Yard on the Other Railway, where there is a constant rain of sparks and raging hellfire. Deep inside the darkest part of this unforgiving place of torture, a lone engine sits silent and unconscious amongst the bones of its former comrades in arms. The lone engine is Molly, the yellow Claud Hamilton. Having disappeared in the middle of a dark, sinister fog the night before, the poor engine somehow ended up at the Smelters Yard undetected. Two workmen had noticed the unconscious engine amongst the debris. "What do you make of that, Bill?" The first workman asked, scratching his head. "Fuck if I know, Tom." Bill shrugged.

"Is it on the roster?" he asked. Tom the workman flicked through his pages on his clipboard, looking for a match on the engine type.

"No, mate." Said Tom. "There's nothing on the roster about us scrapin' or meltin' down a Claud Hamilton or anything. And this one's not even dead." The workmen were perplexed.

"Bloody mystery how it got here." Tom continued. Molly started to come around. She opened her eyes just a fraction. She was unable to make out any details, aside from dark figures and mountains of scrap around her. The two burly workmen chattered on, barely noticing that Molly was coming around… or the strange shape moving behind them.

"Probably those fuckin' kids on Sodor having a laugh or something, stashin' her here like fuckin' garbage." Bill the workman chortled. "We'd better take this up to the foreman."

"Yeah, we wouldn't wanna be scrapin' this…" Tom was suddenly startled. "Fuck me, what is that?" Bill looked around and was horrified at the sight of a ghastly metallic grabber claw bearing down on them.

"Oh, FUCKIN' HELL!" Bill screamed. Both men tried to run but the giant claw descended upon them and began tearing them to pieces. Molly was still fading in and out of consciousness. She still couldn't make out anything; it all appeared to be muted shade of black. The two men were being horribly maimed and tossed around like rag dolls by the demonic claw; their screams were cancelled out by the incredible cacophony of machines and men hard at work. Giant ceiling cranes lifting metal pieces into vats of molten steel, Iron works diesels chugging up and down the line with more engines to slaughter and workmen cutting larger pieces down to size for easier transport. The attack of the two poor men finally ended, both of them dying horribly. Their lifeless bodies were then dragged into the darkness by the evil claw. Molly finally regained complete consciousness; her innocent eyes were spared the worst of the senseless violence. Molly surveyed the environment, hoping to remember any familiar landscape cues. Sadly, she saw none. Molly started to panic as she saw the endless piles of scrap that were almost consumed her. She wanted to get out but she couldn't. Molly's fire was dead and so was her crew. She was now consumed by something else – pure fucking fear. "HELP!" Molly yelled with all her might. "Somebody bloody help me!" she cried out but the noise from inside the Smelters Yard blocked out her frantic cries.

"HELP ME!" Molly screamed as loud as she could.

"There's no use crying, my dear." A dark voice croaked. Molly shuddered in terror. Her eyes darted around the room, hoping to find the source of the voice. "Whose there?" Molly quivered. The dark voice cackled. "Who the fuck are you?" Molly tried to find strength in her helpless situation.

"My my, aren't we the impatient one?" The dark voice laughed. "But I do beg your pardon; I've completely forgotten my manners." Then, a dark mass slowly emerged from out of the shadows. It was a big black engine. Rust had eaten away at its boiler and it appeared to be missing vital parts. Attached to its tender was the same mechanical claw that had maimed the two workmen, it was stained with blood. The engine smiled evilly at the terror stricken Molly. "The name's Matthias. Matthias the C38 class engine. At your service." Molly shuddered with fright.

"You… you're the one that kidnapped me." she stammered.

"Very perceptive of you." Matthias scoffed.

"Where's my crew?" Molly demanded. "And why am I in this horrible place?"

"One thing at a time, my dear." Said Matthias coolly. "Your crew is a little indisposed at the moment." Molly was horrified.

"You killed them?" She whimpered. "You murdered them, you sick fuck!"

"Murder is such an ugly word." Matthias remarked. "Let's just say, I merely swept them aside. They saw my face; I had no choice but to kill them. But then again, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." Matthias snickered. Molly was sickened.

"That is just… vile." Molly groaned.

"It's a necessary evil." Matthias reiterated. "There are no shortcuts around it."

"You still haven't answered my other question." Molly moaned. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Pushy, aren't you?" Matthias sneered. He took a deep breath to calm down. "You really want to know why I brought you're here?"

"Yes!" Molly chuffed loudly.

"Very well." Matthias said softly. "First, you must know I am. Long ago, my physical body had died from a… unforeseen circumstance. My engineers turned their backs on me, just like everyone else did. They destroyed me, leaving my systems wide open until my boiler literally burst at the seams. I didn't die straight away. There I laid on the rusted tracks, in complete agony as my life slipped away from my buffers. I felt my ghost rise from the mass of twisted steel. I watched my corpse was shipped away to some unknown destination. As much as wanted to leave, my soul was bound to that accursed shed. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. But when my old friend Henry and his slut girlfriend Emily decided to make that place their own, it opened up an opportunity for me. If other engines were going make that shed their own, then they would suffer from my wrath. That Great Western engine was the first to feel my fury and, if circumstances still played in my favour, he wasn't going to be the last." Molly was informed of the terrible accident that had crippled Duck for those long five months. Like all the others, she prayed that Duck would pull through. She wasn't told who was responsible for the attack; all Duck could say was that the engine was pure evil.

"Duck certainly felt _your_ wrath." Molly puffed. "He almost died because your actions."

"He was sleeping on hallowed ground." Matthias sniffed. "_My_ hallowed ground. No one was ever allowed to sleep in my berth, even when I was truly alive. I merely forced the issue so the others will understand."

"You are sick." Molly spat.

"Hardly." Matthias remained cool. "And in case you were wondering, there was a reason behind your "snatch and grab". I once saw you at the Bed and Breakfast, showering to your hearts content. I immediately saw how damaged you were on the inside. It was just a passing glance but that was it."

"Wait a minute." Molly suddenly remembered. "That was you?"

"Aaah, you do remember!" Matthias smiled.

"You were that ghastly black mass I saw at the Bed and Breakfast!" Molly thought back. "I still remember those horrible red eyes."

"I hope I didn't give you nightmares." Matthias chuckled.

"Too many." Molly scoffed. Matthias laughed maniacally.

"Anyway." He continued. "Even back then; I immediately saw that you were like me. Even as I wondered alone, I've watched you as you struggled through your meaningless life. The engines made fun of you, especially that Scottish slut Emily. I've seen you been beaten down before, broken by your peers for being weak and fragile. You're just like me."

"Except I've never murdered anyone." Molly sneered.

"Well, there is that." Said Matthias. "Ever since my former pal Henry and his religious cohorts evicted me from that shed, my soul wondered aimlessly about this Island. I wanted to wreak my vengeance on those… engines. But I couldn't do it without a physical body. That's when I remembered this place; this dear little place just south of heaven. I felt right at home here, with so many of my former brothers and sisters in steel being torn down for scrap. By an amazing stroke of luck, my old boiler wasn't melted down, but it was heavily cannibalized. My vital parts stripped from me, either melted down or used as replacement parts for those Goddamn engines. I was mad. I wanted my old parts back and I wanted to get them back, by any means necessary."

"So that's why you stole that grabber claw from Diesel 10." Molly chuffed.

"Exactly!" Matthias exclaimed. "My plot isn't just about revenge, it's also about re-creation. My physical body is far from being whole, as you can see. Using this grabber I stole from that despicable Diesel, I will systematically cannibalize parts from every engine that reaped from my demise. Their parts are my parts. I will take back what rightfully belongs to me, stealing two of everything. Driving wheels, Walschaerts valve gears, coupling rods. Once I am complete again, I shall take my fury to everyone on that Island. All of Sodor will burn under my wheels as I lay waste to every living thing in that place. No man, woman, child or engine will be spared!"

"Steal two of everything?" Molly wondered.

"I'm not only rebuilding myself, my dear." Matthias smirked. "You see, before I became a departed spirit, I took the life of the one engine that didn't see me as a pariah. Her name was Helvetia and she was the only engine I loved. But she never returned that love, so I destroyed her so no one else could have her. I almost regretted killing her, because I knew that there would be no else like her. But then I thought, if I could rebuild myself, then why not Helvetia." Matthias backed up and his grabber pointed over to a rusting boiler on a hastily built frame. It appeared to be in the shaped of an engine. "Impressive, don't you think?"

"And where do I fit in to all of this?" Molly wondered.

"That brings us back to your original question." Matthias answered. "Since Helvetia's soul is no longer on this world, I've been looking for a replacement soul to take her place." Molly suddenly realized where this was going.

"That's where you come in." Matthias continued. "Once Helvetia's body is complete, your soul will be transplanted into her new body. Of course, it will mean the destruction of your old body, but once you enter your new shape, you will have complete control over your systems. No drivers or firemen will be necessary. I will no travel longer alone in this plain, not when I have my Helvetia back at my side… or at least her, ahem, stunt double." Matthias laughed like a madman. Molly was in disbelief.

"You're… demented!" she shrieked, deeply sickened by Matthias' twisted plan.

"Oh, don't worry, my sweet Molly." Matthias gave a dark smile. "There'll be plenty of time to get to know me."

"HEEEELLLLPPP!" Molly screamed. "Somebody please help me!" she screamed again. Matthias snarled with anger, his "commandeered" mechanical grabber snapped forward and pressed down hard on Molly's mouth, effectively silencing her. "SHUT UP!" Matthias thundered; his eyes turned a violent shade of red.

"Don't make me blind you or silence you." Matthias thundered, his voice sounded very demonic. Slowly, he released his grabber claw off Molly's mouth. She just whimpered with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, fuck it; I'll just do it anyway." Matthias huffed nonchalantly. His grabber claw clenched onto a large piece of broken steel and began to fashion it into some kind of blindfold. Molly shivered.

"No, please! I won't scream again, I promise." She pleaded.

"You called me a _sick fuck_. That burned me and now I get to burn you." Matthias laughed evilly. Once he finished, he slowly began to position the scrap built blindfold over Molly's eyes. She tried to squirm away, but the mountains of scrap pinned her down. Molly was helpless.

"No, please, don't!" Molly quaked. And she let out a terrified scream as her world suddenly went dark.

Along a long stretch of track, Henry was pulling the _Flying Kipper_ train, the Island of Sodor's trademark freight service. His sister Karen tagged along for the ride, her reason for doing so was unclear to Henry. It was a particularly fruitful night as far as fishing was concerned and Henry's train was exceptionally heavy with eight additional refrigerated vans attached to his regular train. It was tough going for Henry, he was having trouble gaining enough grip on the slippery tracks. Karen helped out her older brother when they came to Gordon's Hill, acting as his banker engine. The brakeman told Karen not to overbear the brakevan. If she did, the brakevan would collapse under the pressure. Karen pushed the heavy train up the steep 1 in 75 grade hill, being as gentle as possible. Eventually, the two engines were steaming merrily side by side down the line. There was very little traffic on the line and the night air was crisp and clean. "Dude, it's such a perfect night." Karen chuffed happily.

"Sure is, sis." Henry smiled.

"Pity about the God awful smell of the fish." Karen joked.

"I heard that." Henry laughed. Soon the two engines steamed passed the signal box at Cronk station, the effective half-way point of the North Western Railway. Henry picked up speed as raced down the line; he could see that his sister was getting tired but he urged her to keep up with him. "We should have a clear run to Vicarstown." He called to her. "If we pick up speed, we can reach Vicarstown before four o'clock."

"Good." Yawned Karen. "'Cause I'm downloading a whole bunch of Vampire: The Masquerade torrents onto my computer and I want to see if they're finished." Henry snickered. The two Black Fives steamed thundered down the line. Then, Henry noticed something rather peculiar. The air temperature was somehow getting warmer, a strange contrast to the relatively cold day before. Henry was mystified. "Hey sis, can you feel the air getting warmer?"

"Warmer?" Karen wondered. "No, it feels pretty ok, by me."

"Could have sworn that it is…" All of a sudden, something struck Henry. "Oh no. It can't be." He realized something was dreadfully wrong deep down in his boiler.

"If it's getting warmer then this must be a…" Suddenly, the Island of Sodor burst into flames. The sky changed to a sinister blood red. Flames licked and danced all around Henry and Karen. Henry was agape at the terrible hellfire. He looked around frantically only to see people being tortured and horribly mutilated by horrifying looking demons. "Oh my God! I'm in hell again." Henry exclaimed. He looked over to his sister only to see that she had transformed into a diabolical engine from hell. The demon engine shrieked at Henry before it sprouted metallic batwings and took to the air. Henry watched in terror as the "Bat-train" shed off its metal garbs and metamorphosed into a dragon. Henry soon realized that this was all a dream… a terrifyingly real and horrific dream. He passed a trackside sign, it read _Welcome back to South of Heaven_ written in blood and engine sludge. Henry wanted to stop but he couldn't. He had no control over himself and his driver wasn't responding to his call. "I want to stop! I want to stop!" he cried. Henry felt himself being pushed down the line by an unseen force. The tracks lurched and swayed underneath his wheels, as if they had taken a life of their own. Henry was soon steaming towards the Ballahoo Tunnels. It was here back in 1922 where Henry was bricked up from months because he didn't want the rain to spoil his paint. Henry knew that had no choice but to let this dark force "guide" him to his final destination.

As he entered the tunnel, Henry was horrified to see the cut-up faces of his many friends, all strung up on hooks along the length of the tunnel. Wooden torches illuminated the creepy museum of death. Henry almost gagged at the sight of it all, especially when he saw the face of his beloved Emily strung up like a piece of meat. Henry couldn't help but weep. Even if it was just a nightmare, it was just traumatic and nerve wrecking. Henry wanted this dream to end. At last, Henry reached the final stop at the Smelters Yard, "Welcome to _Dead Skin Mask Alley_." Henry read a trackside sign.

"Cute, very cute." He muttered. As he passed through the big, metal doors, Henry felt his brakes apply until he screeched to a complete stop. Henry was overcome by the tremendous hellfire and showering sparks. He could see no one else inside the Smelters Yard, not even the sight of humans. Yet all of the machinery was running, as if by some ghost crew. The gigantic ceiling cranes were lifting chunks of rusted engine parts and dropping them into large molten steel vats. Henry tried not to watch, it was all too disheartening. Any one of those broken pieces could have belonged to his friends. Yet Henry had to remain firm. He summoned up all his courage, took a deep breathe and shouted into the labyrinth. "I know you're in here, Matthias. Come out and face me like a real engine." There was no response, just the constant _clang clang clang_ of the machinery.

"Show yourself!" Henry shouted with all his might. Suddenly, he heard a sinister laugh. It echoed through the massive complex, becoming louder and louder. "Come on out, you fucking prick!" Henry thundered.

"As you wish, old friend." A dark voice answered. All of a sudden, the air was filled with the clank and rattle of broken steel. Henry watched in amazement as the piles of torn metal and steel began to shift and move by themselves. Bits and pieces began to rise up from the piles and glide above the track. The pieces of steel then began joining together, like a massive jigsaw puzzle. More and more pieces rose from the immense piles of scrap around the Smelters Yard. Massive driving wheels rolled along the tracks and attached themselves to the body. Each piece of scrap combined with one another until they formed the shape of an engine. A face out of flesh and skin then formed on the smokebox. The face was soon complete, thus revealing the visage of Matthias. He smiled darkly at Henry, who was still in a state of bewilderment. "Good to see you again, old chum." Matthias chuckled.

"I could hardly say the same for you." Henry sneered. "And you still look like shit."

"Quite the contrary, I haven't felt better in years." Matthias retorted. "As a matter of fact… " Matthias' body was suddenly overcome by strands of blue lightning, pulsing all over his rusted boiler, running board and tender. The blue lightning then completely enveloped him before dissipating; revealing Matthias' rusted body had been "restored" to its original glory, complete with black paint and his number, 3819. "…I feel energized." Matthias chuckled darkly, his eyes growing black and evil.

"Mother of God." Henry quivered. A blue streak of lightning danced around Matthias's body before it disappeared down his mouth.

"That hit the spot." Matthias smirked. "It's amazing what can happen in someone's dreams. For instance, I can do something like this." Matthias' face and boiler suddenly sprouted horrible looking claws, part mechanical and part flesh. His eyes turned red and he emitted a ghastly hollow scream as the claws swatted at the air. Henry's face went white as a sheet. Then, Matthias reverted back to normal, still with a big smile on his face. "Pretty cool, eh?" he said cheekily.

"There are no limits to what the mind can conjure up in a dreamscape. Although you have to sometimes wonder, which dreamscape you are truly in; is it your dreamscape or is it mine? Are you dreaming or merely part of someone else's dream?" Matthias continued to ramble on and on until Henry got very annoyed.

"Cut the philosophical bullshit, you deluded psychopath!" he thundered. "You summoned me back to this wretched place for a reason, so answer me this, why have you brought me here… again?" Matthias looked hurt.

"Dear me, aren't we in a hurry?" He grumbled. "Christ, you engines are just pushy. Always in a rush to be somewhere. Never any time to stay and chat. Very well, old friend. Here's the inside scoop." Matthias cleared his throat.

"Ever since I was cast from that miserable place you called a home, my soul has been wondering aimlessly across this landscape." Matthias started. "No place to go, nowhere to stop. Even as I traveled alone, I plotted my eminent return to your realm."

"I know, you've told me in my dreams." Henry muttered.

"It was the only way to get your attention." Matthias reiterated. "Like I've said hundreds of times before, I've been thirsting for revenge against Sir Topham Hatt's railway and everyone in it."

"How are you going to achieve that? Kill people in their dreams? It's been done." Henry mocked his adversary.

"If you let me finish, I will tell you." Matthias grunted. "My plan is simple, to cleanse of everything that is impure on this Island. But without a physical body, I am nothing more than dust and fog that stings the eyes of the masses. That was until I found this place… and my old body. Lucky for me, it was mostly intact. But my precious body was missing vital parts. All of them were either butchered or used as replacement parts by your so-called friends. I wanted to take back what was rightfully mine. Taking possession of that Diesel's grabber claw, I began taking parts from the bones of my former comrades, slowly building my old form, with a little outside help, until I could run again."

"Outside help?" Henry was astounded. "What do you mean outside help?"

"Oops, did I say outside help? Perhaps I've said too much already." Matthias roared with laughter. "Anyway, old friend. Once my body is fully complete, I will finally bring my master plan of destruction to fruition."

"And I suppose Molly has something to do with this?" Henry demanded.

"And what makes you think I was the one that abducted her?" Matthias asked in a cheeky tone. "There are tons of psychos out there that could have taken Molly for a joyride or something. Why, even as we speak, dear Molly could have been broken up for scrap or worse, she could be tortured mercilessly." Henry wasn't buying Matthias' act of innocence one bit.

"I'm looking at one psycho right now." Henry sneered. "I know you had something to do with Molly's disappearance. I know this because I know you all too well. You're just that sick to do something like this. Even if it means the murder of three innocent men to do it." Matthias appeared to be flattered, but at the same time, caught in his lie.

"Ok. You caught me, pal. I'm guilty as charged." He chuckled, now completely wheel deep in his madness. Henry, on the other hand, had descended into his own madness.

"Bastard!" Henry growled. "Where is she, you maniac?"

"Why Molly is right here." Matthias said softly as several ceiling cranes carrying giant crucibles of molten steel inexplicably dumped their loads onto the tracks. The molten steel splashed onto the sleepers before swirling and dancing in mid air. The molten steel then started to form the unmistakable shape of an engine. The figure was clear. It was Molly!

"Dear God." Henry gasped. "Molly, is that you?"

"Help me, Henry." The "Molten Molly" cried. "Save me!"

"Don't worry, Molly." Henry wept at her agony. "We'll find you no matter what. I promise!" he cried.

"I'm sorry, your time's up." Matthias called out as the "Molten Molly" melted into nothing. The molten steel sloshed away and seeped into the sleepers and the sooty ground. "Such a Hallmark moment. It's almost touching." Matthias laughed to himself as Henry's face turned red.

"You monster!" He scowled. "Let her go!"

"Nothing doing." Matthias shook his head… metaphorically. "I need her for a much grander purpose."

"What kind of grander purpose?" Henry asked.

"Oh, I'm not telling you." Matthias snickered. The faints echoes of someone screaming reverberated through the Smelters Yard. Henry's jaw dropped. To him, it sounded like the distant plea for help. Henry thought the screams were from Molly, trapped somewhere inside the maze of death machines. Her painful screams were then joined by other pain screams. To Henry, they sounded like his friends. Matthias just smiled. He was enjoying himself despite the terrible misery around him. "Can you hear it?" Matthias asked playfully. "Listen to them. The hallowed screams of the dead. Oh, such sweet vengeance to be brought on this pitiful Island and its puppet residents."

"You… murdering scum!" Henry snarled. "I'll kill you before you do any harm to Molly or my friends." Matthias was unfazed.

"Tut tut, Henry." He coolly remarked. "You tried to kill me before with your exorcism. But, as you can see, I'm not that easy to kill. Besides, my plan is far too important to pass up, with so many engines pay back."

"Fuck everything that you stand for." Henry thundered. "I cannot let you take your sanctimonious plot of destruction to my peaceful Island. I will track you down where ever you're hiding and destroy you myself."

"Big words for a small engine." Matthias huffed. "Especially since you at one time wanted revenge on your so-called friends for shunning you. You should be at my side when I tear out the hearts of those fucking engines; like that drunkard Gordon, that slut Scot girlfriend of yours or that egomaniac Thomas. Or perhaps I should start my reign of terror by tearing out the heart of Thomas' little friend, Percy. OR should I start with Thomas' girlfriend Rosie. I can't really decide." He chuckled softly.

"You're insane!" Henry snarled again, there was true fire in his eyes. "I'll see you hell before you lay a claw on my friends."

"Huh, such solidarity for worthless engines." Matthias sniffed. "What nonsense."

"My solidarity for my friends has nothing to do with this." Henry snapped. "It's putting a stop to your evil plan that is my concern." Matthias' face whipped clean. He wasn't smiling any more.

"Very well, old friend." Matthias' voice grew dark. "Have it your way." The whites of his eyes turned black as a sinister rumbling noise began to reverberate throughout the Smelters Yard. Matthias gave a monstrous growl, flames were flicking through the gaps and cracks along his boiler. Henry shuddered with terror. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. But his wheels were frozen to the rails. Matthias opened his mouth and let out a demonic roar. Henry was agape as he saw flames creep out of Matthias' mouth. "Be gone." Matthias roared in the most demonic tone ever. He belched out a jet of fire that completely engulfed Henry from funnel to footplate. Henry screamed in pain as the flames burned his face and boiler. His brilliant green paint blistered from the extreme heat. As the flames burned all around Henry, his boiler began to twist and crack. Then, he finally exploded into a thousand little pieces.

At that moment, Henry woke up in a start. His face was drenched in sweat and his face was white as a sheet. He breathed heavily as he looked around frantically. Henry was back at Tidmouth sheds, amongst his friends and family. All of them asleep and very much alive. Henry started to calm down, breathing a sigh of relief. Henry was glad that his nightmare was over. Or was it? As he was about to drift off to sleep again, Henry saw something shocking. All around the shed, painted in some foreign substance, was a strange and dark message. The message foretold a time of darkness and bloodshed that would be swift and painful. _"Take heed all ye pitiful souls. The eyes of the insane are looking down on you. Beware the Angel of Death clad in black steel. He will rise again, to avenge his suffering and inflict it on you."_ Henry's eyes widen with terror. He remembered seeing such a message in an earlier nightmare he had. As much as he tried to shake it off, Henry couldn't get that message out of his head. Was that message a warning to Henry? Was it foretelling of a time of darkness upon the Island? Henry tried to brush it off as nothing but a mere nightmare. A nightmare induced by this insane former friend Matthias. Now, Henry wasn't so sure. "Guys, guys! Wake up!" Henry called to his friends. "WAKE UP!" he shouted. The other engines all stirred drowsily from their sleep. They all grumbled and murmured in discontent. "What is it, Henry?" Yawned Karen, her black make up had smudged around her eyes, creating… panda eyes.

"Did you have a wet dream again?" Grumbled Gordon angrily.

"Look!" Henry stammered. All the engines glanced around the shed. They all gasped at the terrible messages of hate and violence plastered across their immaculate shed. "Oh… dear Lord." Gordon stuttered in alarm. "Is that… blood?"

"What the hell is all this?" James lisped. "This can't be something those street gangs would have done. This is… this is…"

"Brutal?" Muttered Edward.

"Yeah. Brutal." James finished.

"But who would do something like this?" Emily stammered.

"Matthias." Answered Henry. "This is Matthias's doing. I know it." Everyone looked at Henry with amazement.

"What makes you think he could have done this?" Edward asked.

"Just a hunch." Henry sniffed.

"Shit, the Fat Controller's going to be pissed when he sees this." Karen chuckled nervously. The other engines didn't think that this was something to laugh at. But then again, how would the Fat Controller react to something like this. "What do you suppose this all means?" Edward wondered. The other engines were too spooked to think of an answer, but Henry knew. He knew exactly what the message entailed.

"Darkness." Henry spoke up. "Darkness and evil. The devil is coming to Sodor. And he's bringing all of hell with him." The engines shuddered. Was this forgone assumption of Henry's true? Were the engines going to feel the wrath of some deadly force? If so, would they all survive and would the Island survive? James glanced over to Gordon and saw something very bizarre. "Gordon." James broke the uncomfortable silence. "Is that a willy painted on your face?"

"What?" Gordon spluttered. He looked towards a vanity mirror on his shed door and saw… a dirty big penis spray painted between his eyes. "Oh, bloody hell!" Gordon grumbled indignantly. "Fucking kids!"


End file.
